A NICE, QUIET WEEK.
Copyright, 1S94, by Francis, Day & Hunter.
Written by J. P. Harington. Composed by Geo. Le Brunn.
Wilkins and Wilks and Binks and I, feeling our nerves were undone,
Holiday-making thought we'd go far from the breeze of London.
"Better go down to Kent," says Binks, beautiful place, suit nicely;
Couldn't get boozed down there, you know, pub's shut at ten precisely;
Piff-puff, piff-puff, off by train we went.
Nice, quiet week's rest, that, was our intent:
When the town we "struck," you know, we'd a drink for luck, you know,
But, Lor' bless you, when we'd been an hour in Kent-
Chorus.
We were such rollicking, frolicking, devil-may-care young bladies,
Kissing the nice young ladies, frightening prim old maidies;
We threw the slop in the pond And we jumped on the old men's cadies;
No mistake, there's nothing like a nice, quiet week.
Up at the nearest inn we put, finding it nice and handy,
Ordering, in the smoking room, lots of cigars and brandy;
Each had a score of drinks, or more, plenty of fun and laughter,
Using the empty bottles for breaking the windows after,
Wilkins he got into awful strife-
But for our cheek, he'd have lost his life.
Potman found that star, you know, hid behind the bar, you know,
Swearing love eternal to the landlord's wife.- Chorus.
When they brought in their only slop, right to a man we whopped him,
Collared him in our clutch, you know, into the horse-pond dropped him,
Then "with a one, two, three" we fled, half of the town behind us;
Silly attempt, they caught us quick, put us in jail to mind us,
Next day, oh, dear! 'cause we broke the laws,
How stern, how sharp, Mister Justice was.
As you came to seek, my friends, just a quiet week, my friends.
You shall have one each upon the mill, because-
Chorus.
You've been such rollicking, frolicking, devil-may-care young bladies,
Kissing the nice young ladies, frightening petal old maidies:
You threw the slop in the pond and you jumped on the old men's cadies;
No mistake, there's nothing like a nice, quiet week.